feelings of bird like vulture
circling the white bleached bones of concrete
for ones still alive
buried under the bitter wine
made from grapes of wrath
where proverty is served up daily
in the sunshine.
waiting for someone
to listen closely
for cries mouthed with dust
and broken limbs
the people of haiti
weeping for the sound of their
loved ones buried to soon
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment